Off my chest.

This is almost an appropriate blog  title.  Shame I don't really have anything to say, just a huge urge to say it.

This post, just by the way, could end up slightly random.

I have always overthought things.  It's something I do, something I always have done and something I doubt will ever change.  Not significantly anyway.  (I really should go to bed.  I don't feel well.)  I appear to have decided to give myself a problem lurking at the back of my mind: subconciously decided to think that I don't want jack as much as I used to.  See, this is complete shite, which is even being proved now by me wanting a hug from him, in my less than perfect mental state.  By my wanting him earlier so I ended up hanging onto his t-shirt very tightly indeed.  By not wanting him to go.  By worrying when his leg hurt and I chucked him on the floor (...). See, it's ridiculous, but I just keep worrying.  Maybe if my head stops spinning, it'll stop hurting to.  That would be wonderful, I tell you.

So what else is there?

Right now I don't have anything to say.  I don't really want to talk to anyone so am not, and that's pretty much that.  I feel like cocooning myself in a big blanket with someone giving me a big hug.  I hate feeling this groggy.

The song Wish You Were Here off the album with the same name, written by Pink Floyd, is freaking awesome.  I love it at the moment.

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? 
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground. 
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Weirdly relevant, though I couldn't for the life of me explain why.